


One week

by softgrungeprophet



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bickering, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cabins, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Homoeroticism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Possibly OOC, Scars, Terminal Illnesses, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: Flash is a disabled veteran, and Eddie is a recovering cancer survivor.When their therapy group goes on a trip, a blizzard hits and the two get separated from the rest of the group on the way there.They wind up alone together in an otherwise unoccupied cabin for a week, snowed in with only each other for company.





	1. Snap into a Slim Jim

**Author's Note:**

> AU in which there are no superheroes; no Spider-Man, no Venom, no symbiote... (sorry lol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two protagonists end up alone together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1/night 1
> 
> for pictures of the references and stuff I'm using, you can look at this google drive folder: [link](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1835r6m6TQA_PZDfMiqjMZlSmyyl3Lkem?usp=sharing)

"We're not getting Slim Jims—"

"What's wrong with Slim Jims?" Flash looked over at Eddie, eyebrows drawing together slightly.

As if he could barely believe Flash would ask such a thing, Eddie snapped, "It's processed garbage—" He calmed himself, fully aware of his tendency toward dramatic overreaction, and said, "At least get something higher quality."

He reached for a few sticks of dried turkey meat, seasoned with rosemary and other herbs and spices, according to the label.

Organic!

Expensive.

"These are like five bucks apiece, dude."

Eddie nodded, setting their basket of gas station snacks on the counter. "And better for you."

Flash sighed, but conceded. "Fine." He tossed the turkey sticks in with the other stuff, as Eddie handed him a ten dollar bill. "Thanks."

Eddie stood aside, quietly for once, as Flash paid.

Some junk, here and there. A box of chocolate donuts not even Eddie could say no to, some potato chips... but also some fruit cups and trail mix, and some pickles (mostly for Flash). All into two nondescript black plastic bags, which Eddie grabbed to take out to the car.

"I'm sorry—"

"No, Brock, it's _fine_." Flash glanced up at the darkening sky, shivering slightly despite his bulky green sweater. "It's just jerky."

Brock.

Eddie frowned, as Flash pulled himself into the passenger seat. "I just..."

"It's jerky, Eddie." Flash held his arms out for the food. "It's not a big deal."

With a brisk nod, Eddie handed the bags off, and opened the rear door so he could stow Flash's wheelchair in the collapsed backseat of their rental car.

It wasn't huge, but it had four doors and a pretty spacious trunk. Fit all their belongings, fit Flash's chair without having to remove the wheels, fit Eddie's long legs when he moved the driver's seat back.

The radio hummed on quietly, driver's choice (jazz) as Eddie turned the ignition and craned to check the coast was clear—empty for miles behind, and just their carpool group in front. He pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road as a few light flakes of snow dusted through the air. Car was still pretty cozy, thank God, and the heater came on shortly to get it just a bit warmer.

Flash didn't say much at all—Eddie had noticed earlier, he got very quiet in the car. Something about a history of bad experiences, or at least he'd said as much to Eddie when he asked him to drive them for this trip. Eddie didn't pry. Anything that didn't get brought up in group therapy wasn't any of his business.

He kept an eye on the road, not far behind the other cars in their group, and hummed along with the radio.

The sky continued to darken, and the snow grew from a few scattered flecks of white to a more steady, fine drift. A sixteen-wheeler passed them, rumbling, side-by-side for just a moment, and Flash reached for one of the jerky sticks.

"I used to get a lot of Slim Jims back when..." Eddie paused, glancing over at Flash. "When I was homeless. Doritos, cheap jerky, stale bread rolls and bagels..." He turned on the windshield wipers. "I can't eat them anymore—the smell, it just... You know?"

Flash hummed, affirmative, as he gnawed on his stick.

His free hand rose to grab the handle over the window, as they drifted slightly toward the line.

Eddie slowed, a little, no one behind them to be bothered and the road already going a sheer white.

He glanced at Flash again, enough to see his knuckles almost as pale as the snow outside, from his tightening grip. "You okay?"

"No."

Eddie frowned. "I'm driving as carefully as I can."

"I know." Flash shifted, chewing on his jerky again—spoke around it—"Thank you." He took a breath. "Please keep talking."

For a moment, that put Eddie at a loss, but he kept his eyes forward on the taillights of their group and that big semi-truck, and murmured, "When I was a kid, I used to eat bugs—" He made a face. "Sorry, I'm not great at small talk."

A particular rush of snow blocked out the cars ahead for just a moment, so distant they seemed. The truck ahead of them switched lanes, too, and that didn't help.

"You like romance novels, right?"

Flash didn't respond for a moment, but just as Eddie thought he might not have heard him, he said, "...Yeah."

 "Hmm..." Eddie waited for the truck to move, but it didn't, and he thought if he switched lanes in that moment, in the thickening snow, Flash might throttle him.

"Can you reach my bag?" Eddie upped the speed of the windshield wipers. "I've got a CD player in there, with some books-on-tape I burned from the library." He almost laughed. "I know it's a little old-fashioned but it's served me well."

Luckily, Eddie had stowed his backpack right behind the seat, and Flash was able to twist for it, to pull out Eddie's Walkman and one of the CDs. Flash settled back into his seat with Eddie's headphones on, eyes shut and hand still white-knuckled on the handle over the window.

Within five minutes, Eddie could no longer see the road—just the red taillights of the sixteen-wheeler in front of them, haloed by its own fog lights.

Who _knew_ where the rest of their group had gone. Hopefully outpacing the storm.

The radio had fizzled into unclear static, though the occasional saxophone or trumpet peeked through.

Eddie followed the semi truck's blurring lights, the only thing he could really make out beyond a rare glimpse of roadside trees or barriers.

They were definitely driving at an incline, and surrounded by trees on either side. He couldn't be sure if he had taken any turns or simply followed the curvature of the road—if the truck ahead of them had any better bearings. If they were lost or if they should keep going, if it would lead to their destination.

But there was a turn, so he took it—whether that was an exit or just another turn and they had exited a while back, he couldn’t be sure.

Another came up, and then a narrow road—no buildings anywhere, just dark trees standing black against the snow, and shielding this side road slightly from the storm, leaving the asphalt a little clearer, a little more visible.

The road wound, and gradually turned to gravel, but Eddie drove slowly and tried to ignore the snow building up both ahead of and behind them. This had to go somewhere, and turning back wasn't an option—there wasn't even room to turn around if he wanted to.

But then—

"Oh, thank the Lord." Eddie turned into the driveway of a seemingly solitary cabin of some kind: a tiny two-story wooden house with a covered porch, a pile of firewood draped in a tarp, an even tinier shed... He shut off the engine.

"Where are we?" Flash leaned forward, a little wan but alert as he took off Eddie's headphones.

Eddie kicked his door open, moving snow out in a sweep with the bottom edge. "Wait here." He slammed it shut behind him, pocketing the car keys, and crunched through the foot or so of snow to get to the porch. Windows dark. He knocked, loud, and waited. Nothing. Maybe he could break in...

There was a garden gnome by the door, finger to its mouth in a gleeful hush.

"A-ha..." Eddie picked it up, and sure enough... "Spare key."

He held it up in triumph, so Flash could see, before turning around to unlock the door. It opened on a dark, quiet interior.

"Hello?"

Silence.

He hurried back to the car, to open the back door. He stuck his head in, as he grabbed Flash's wheelchair, and asked, "How do you want to do this?"

"Uh..." Flash chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, as he considered. "Put it on the porch and carry me up."

Alright.

Chair to the porch; then Eddie hurried right back to the rental car—He offered his back to Flash, and Flash grabbed on, wrapping his arms around Eddie's neck, careful not to strangle him. Eddie took their food from the front seat and shut the passenger door so he could deposit his cargo on the porch. Kneeling again, of course, beside Flash's braked wheelchair, so that Flash could pull himself into the seat.

He left Flash to take their food into the cabin, and returned to the car to start bringing in their necessities from the trunk—things like his cane and oxygen machine, their suitcases and the like. A few trips, back and forth, hunched against the biting wind.

Between the freezing air, the unexpected workout the snow presented, and the weight of their things with no one to help... Eddie's lungs burned.

He doubled over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, wheezing with most of their things piled on the wood floor in front of him and the cabin door shut and locked behind him.

"You gonna be okay?" Flash rolled closer, seemingly genuine in his concern.

Eddie straightened up with a grimace, reaching for his [cane ](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1v37m8aerng3Q9WpTeWk_ueCHHpTJz5z3/view?usp=sharing)with a deep breath, and a choked back cough.

"I'll be fine."

Flash raised his eyebrows, but he just said, "Okay."

***

Flash sat by the fireplace, munching away at a pickle and basking in the heat of the fire as he took in the cabin they had found.

It wasn't tiny, but not huge either. A small kitchen took up the opposite wall, partially open to the entrance and living room, with a door beside it that led to a bathroom. Just a step away, a compact, woolen loveseat with a throw blanket, where Eddie sat facing the fireplace; and a small coffee table at his feet. Flash had set himself up in a rocking chair, cozy by the fire, with his wheelchair within easy reach.

There was a ladder behind him, leading up to less of a second floor and more of a loft, where presumably the owner of this cabin slept...

"Do you have a signal?"

Flash turned his attention to Eddie, who held his phone up in the air as if that might improve his service. He'd put on a pair of [reading glasses](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1gI28mCxUuVFT2IDsNLxOfbkfiJMfhAHB/view?usp=sharing), which—combined with his turtleneck sweater—made him look a little bit like a librarian.

"Uhhh..." Flash fished for his iPhone to check. "No, nothin'."

He took a bite of his pickle.

Eddie grumbled. "I swear my old college Nokia never lost service like this. What's the point of a phone that doesn't even work?" He adjusted his glasses. "And everything is so tiny, I can't read it." 

Flash laughed. "What are you, sixty?"

Eddie leveled an unamused stare on him.

"Hey, lighten up." Flash gestured to the fireplace. "We're warm, we're safe, we're not driving in a blizzard—who cares about a dumb phone?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he put his phone away and folded up his reading glasses, tucking them into a soft pouch, and into one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

A shame, really.

The glasses suited him.

"Okay, so—" Flash reached for his wheelchair, so he could head over to their things. "Since this storm wasn't in the forecast it'll probably be alright tomorrow, so as long as we can manage to stay here for a day or two we'll be fine." He grabbed their pillows and held them out for Eddie to take over the back of the loveseat. "I'll sleep on the couch and you can sleep in the loft, I guess?"

Eddie hummed, hugging his pillow close.

Too bad neither of them had brought an extra blanket, other than the one Flash wore on his lap during the winter. But surely there were some around the cabin.

Flash pulled Eddie's bags onto his lap and wheeled them over to the base of the ladder that led to the loft. Eddie had a lot of things, though none particularly heavy... maybe that was the point—separate everything out so it's not one big load.

Flash himself certainly tended toward the opposite—one suitcase crammed to the gills.

He stacked Eddie's bags neatly at the foot of the ladder, for him.

***

Eddie stood leaning against the ladder to the loft, frowning down at his phone and willing it to just send one text, please. He'd promised Mary he would give her and Anne a call when he got to his destination. But the text alone kept returning that failure-to-send message, little and red. He certainly wouldn't have been able to get a call out. He sighed. He could only hope Mary wouldn't worry too much.

"Worthless piece of junk..."

He glanced over at the loveseat. Flash had somehow managed to fall asleep already, under the throw blanket and another blanket which had been folded up underneath the coffee table. They'd put the fire out, but it still exuded a little bit of residual heat, and Flash looked cozy and warm, soft and peaceful. Eddie remembered how he looked when they first met, a couple years back at the FEAST center, all scruffy and tired... and now he seemed so much gentler. Eddie looked up the ladder at the darkness of the loft, his things at his feet.

It was cold up there. Not as cold as it could have been, and the fireplace had done a pretty good job of heating up the whole cabin, but still colder than he would have liked.

He bundled himself up in the blankets on the nearly floor-level bed and adjusted his cannula, hugging his black teddy bear close. It had [a little Yankee's uniform](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1udOcVHUj_SESCI7aJJrbyf7pDPnOv7zC/view?usp=sharing), though Eddie had lost the shoes a while ago.

He closed his eyes.

Everything felt very still and quiet, even with the muted noise from his oxygen concentrator.

There was no electrical outlet up here—he could use the machine for a little while, but eventually the battery would run out, and he didn't have a backup. But it would have to do. He'd charge it in the morning, downstairs.

He counted his own breaths as he relaxed into the blankets.

He kept counting until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the loft bed is on a frame that's literally like an inch off the ground to provide some airflow beneath the mattress without putting it too close to the angled ceiling.


	2. Let's heat things up a little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship.... blossoming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rest of night 1/part of day 2

Mary paced beside the window as she dialed Eddie again.

Almost immediately, a pre-recorded message began, " _The number you are trying to call is not r—_ "

She hung up with a curse.

"Hey," Anne stood and came over to Mary, placing a hand on her arm. "He's probably fine. Give it another day before worrying too much, okay?" She took the phone from Mary, and took her hands.

Mary frowned, but she nodded. "Okay." She squeezed Anne's hands.

With a smile, Anne led her back to bed, tugging her down onto the sheets. "Let's get some sleep."

"Oh?" Mary let Anne pull her down. "Sleep, or _sleep_?"

Anne pushed Mary onto her back, so she could climb onto her. "Well, I don't know." She reached to push Mary's hair out of her face. "You tell me."

With a quiet laugh, Mary cupped Anne's face between her big hands. She gave Anne a quick peck on the lips but murmured, "I'm tired. "

"Me too." Anne scooted off of her, with a pat on her shoulder, as Mary turned off the lamp beside their bed.

They wrapped their arms around each other and settled in to sleep.

***

Flash woke disoriented, in an unfamiliar living room with an unfamiliar ceiling.

Right. The snow storm. The cabin.

He nestled deeper into his blankets with a shiver.

Just as he thought he might drift off again, hoarse coughing startled him back into full awareness—Eddie, upstairs, dry and rasping. For just a second, Flash glared up at the ceiling, annoyed. But... then he felt bad. It sounded painful, muffled like maybe Eddie had pulled his blankets up or something. Like maybe he was trying not to be too loud.

As Eddie's coughs subsided into wheezing, Flash caught a grumbled, "You spiteful son of a bitch."

Flash tilted his head. Hesitantly—"Who're you talking to, Eddie?"

"God."

Flash blinked.

He couldn't help it—he laughed. " _God_?" He sat up and said, "You always call God a son of a bitch when you wake up?"

Eddie didn't answer, but his foot emerged from the darkness above, as he pulled himself over the edge, down the ladder, with his backpack on. He trudged over to the kitchen, and Flash watched him curiously as he pulled out a machine and plugged it into the wall. Eddie also pulled a water bottle out, refilling it at the tap so he could down some pills, and then just left the bag on the counter. He made his way back over to the living area, and plopped into the chair by the fireplace.

He shivered.

"How about I get the fire going?" Flash extricated himself from his piles of blankets, so he could transfer into his wheelchair.

Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms.

Flash rolled his eyes.

It didn't take long to get a nice fire burning, warm and inviting. Eddie had relocated to Flash's vacated spot on the loveseat, wrapping one of the blankets around himself and leaning against Flash's pillow without much care as to who it belonged to. He'd drawn his legs up to his chin, under the blankets, and now gazed into the fire as it crackled into a steady smolder.

Flash took a moment to check his phone—still no service. Outside, the snow had not abated, just as steady as the night before with no signs of stopping.

Eddie's stomach growled loudly.

Flash grinned.

"Man, I'm really feelin' a donut." He wheeled over to the kitchen, where he'd stashed their food. "How about you?"

"I suppose it's better than starving to death."

Flash suppressed a laugh as he fished out the box of chocolate donuts. As if he hadn't caught the way Eddie eyed them in the gas station. He tore the box open carefully, and made his way back over to the heat of the fire so he could set the open donuts on the coffee table. He shoved one in his mouth and hopped up onto the loveseat beside Eddie, tugging on one of the blankets.

Eddie let him take the blanket with a grumble, reaching for a donut—he hesitated and took a second one before leaning back against the cushions.

"Hungry?" Flash spoke with his mouth full.

Eddie glowered, pulling off a piece from one of the donuts. "Unlike some people, I can't live off of pickles and potato chips." He stared into the fire as he ate.

Flash frowned. He swallowed this time, before talking. "We could've gotten some more healthy stuff if you asked—"

"If I'd known we would be stranded in God knows where I might have said something." Eddie straightened up a little, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up and tightening the small throw blanket around his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, now."

Flash looked down at the blanket he'd reclaimed from Eddie, lain across his lap.

Back up to Eddie, with his hunched shoulders, done with one donut and moving on to the other.

"Hey," Flash lifted his blanket and scooted closer to Eddie, draping it across both of them as he moved right into Eddie's personal space. "C'mere."

Eddie held his breath for a moment—let out a small cough, then, and relaxed a little, though he looked away, down at the floor, just a little tense.

***

Eddie had no idea when he'd fallen asleep, but he woke up half on top of Flash, with one leg sticking off the couch and the other folded up against the arm. He lifted his head and—oh, he'd drooled on Flash's shirt. Like some kind of child. He took a deep breath and sat up, wiping his face and looking around. The clock above the fireplace read 10, and his bladder confirmed that yes, he had been asleep for at least three hours.

With a soft grunt, Eddie pushed himself to his feet. He took a moment to stretch, sore in one of his knees and his neck and his hip. The fire had died down to a soothing smolder, still warm, and Eddie moved over to the partially-curtained window in the kitchen to peer outside.

Not actively snowing, but the sky hung heavy with clouds and a good few feet of snow blanketed the ground outside. He opened the front door a moment, bracing himself against the cold rush of air. The snow had buried the front steps entirely, and layered itself nearly up to the hood of the rental car. Eddie sighed as he shut the door and locked it. At least the power seemed to be holding strong, the quiet buzz of the refrigerator audible from the kitchen.

Once he'd gone to the bathroom, he unplugged his fully charged oxygen machine, and double-checked it was off before poking around in their bags, stomach twisting in hunger.

He didn't want any of it.

But he grabbed a fruit cup and one of the expensive turkey sticks he'd insisted on buying in the first place, and took them to the chair beside the fireplace to eat.

It really wasn't enough—but the idea of eating any more junk food made his stomach turn unpleasantly.

As Flash finally stirred, mumbling something about his shirt being damp, Eddie said, "I'm going to raid the pantry."

"Wh—" Flash sat up, suddenly. "Don't steal their food!"

Eddie ignored him, already halfway to the kitchen and ready to throw together whatever college-kid level improvised meal he could. The fridge was empty, but for a stick of butter and an open box of baking soda. The freezer yielded better results—but he left that for the time being. Didn't need to steal their frozen chicken thighs or likely handmade freezer jam.

But canned corn, he could do. Canned chicken, some penne... he could work with that.

Okay, maybe some frozen peas too.

"How do you feel about pasta?"

Flash pursed his lips, resting his chin on the back of the couch. But... "I like pasta."

So Eddie made pasta.

***

"What do you mean you got separated?!" Mary set her coffee down a little more forcefully than intended, on her lunch break outside the courthouse. "Where is he?!"

The man on the other end stuttered through his explanation—storm fronts and highway exits and at some point they realized one of the cars in the group had gone missing, along with two of their members...

Mary very carefully counted her breaths.

Eddie wasn't alone. That was important.

"You're _certain_ he has another person with him. Absolutely sure."

The man confirmed that yes, he and "another member" were together, the last time Eddie had been seen.

Thank God.

Mary let out a sigh, foot tapping with unreleased energy. "I have no doubt he'll call me the second he has service, and I'll keep trying to call him, but just... please have him contact me if you see him."

"Yes, Ms. Brock, of course. We have you listed as his emergency contact, and we'll be sure to be in touch if anything happens."

She closed her eyes.

 _If anything happens_.

"Thank you."

Mary hung up, and put her phone away.

She stared down at her coffee.

She needed something to punch, ASAP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	3. push, pull, touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Flash learn a little more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 2/some night 2/some day 3

Flash lay on the floor in front of the door, doing stretches on his yoga mat.

He pulled one thigh to his chest, but just couldn't quite get the leverage he needed—"Hey, Eddie!" He craned his neck to see Eddie reading by the fireplace.

Eddie looked over at Flash.

"Can you push down on my leg?"

Eddie snorted, but he closed his book and joined Flash by the door, lowering himself down to sit on the wood flooring. "Where do you want me to...?"

Flash pulled his right thigh up again, and waved his left limb at Eddie. "Just push down with both of your hands so it's flat. Like chest compressions. But not really, actually, please don't try to resuscitate my stumps."

"...Right." Eddie shifted, and pressed his palms down on the top of Flash's leg, gently.

Much better.

Flash counted to thirty before switching, and Eddie switched with him.

It had honestly been a while since he did this with a partner, usually settling for a makeshift weight—a mini sandbag, or whatever he had on hand—and there was a certain intimacy he'd forgotten about, in the firm, almost business-like press of another person's palms against his skin.

For a moment, as Flash sat up, Eddie lingered, but then he moved away—sat against the back of the couch, a slight flush of pink on his cheeks.

Flash grinned. "Your hands are really soft... What's your secret?"

"I soak them in orange oil, 24/7." Deadpan.

"I'm serious!" Flash twisted, to give his spine a good stretch. "What's your secret?! My hands are like _sandpaper_." He leaned back on his palms for a moment, tilting his head. Still smiling, playful.

Pulling himself to his feet, Eddie rumbled, "Have you tried, perhaps, using lotion?" and left Flash to his stretches.

 _Rude_.

Flash plopped down onto his stomach, moving into further simple stretches—arching his back, elbows planted firmly into his mat. Held that for a bit, focusing on his breathing and stillness, eyes closed...

After a moment of near-silence, he heard the sound of Eddie's socks against the floor, his pajama pants rustling—Flash squinted one eye open as Eddie sat next to him, on the hard wood.

Eddie said nothing, only reaching for his toes beside Flash.

Flash smiled to himself, and moved on to his next stretch.

***

The owners of the cabin actually had a fairly impressive collection of books for what was, presumably, only a vacation home. In particular, a lot of poetry. Eddie had found, long ago, that he lacked the taste for poetry—better to read long, convoluted treatises on philosophy, or trashy romance; vintage science-fiction and experimental horror novels. Mystery and crime thrillers, too, of course.

But Flash seemed drawn to the poetry, and spent most of the rest of the day absorbed in Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, periodically breaking to check his phone (still no signal for either of them) or to go to the bathroom. He read so intently, worrying his lip with his teeth absentmindedly, tilting his head, soft in the firelight.

Eddie caught himself staring and ducked his head, feeling a hot flush creep up the back of his neck as he fumbled with his CD player.

He settled in, closing his eyes.

He dozed, half-listening to one of the audiobooks he'd brought with him, warm beside the low fire, wrapped in a blanket. He'd barely been paying attention for the past few minutes—something about the protagonist's "pale, heaving breast" and her paramour's chiseled jaw.

Truth be told, so over-wrought in its drama, stringent gender roles and bodice-ripping passion, it functioned as the opposite of sexual or sensual.

Eddie breathed out a quiet laugh at a particularly lurid, over-the-top line and shifted to be a little more comfortable...

He woke a an hour later with a crick in his neck, the room plunged into darkness.

Flash lay on the loveseat, on his back, with a laptop on his stomach, the quiet noises of virtual pinball barely audible. He only looked up when Eddie groaned and stretched his legs out in front of the dying fire.

"Hey." Flash closed his laptop.

With a grumble, Eddie pulled his half-dislodged headphones off, and leaned over to set his CD player on the coffee table.

"I wanted to ask you something—"

Eddie settled back into the chair. "Ask away, pretty-boy."

That startled Flash into a momentary silence, but then he asked, "Um, I was just wondering what kind of workouts you do? Like, do you do yoga, or anything?"

Not the question he'd expected, but then again Eddie wasn't entirely sure what he _had_ expected. He fixed the blanket around his shoulders and spoke quietly. "I go on walks with my sister and my ex-wife." He closed his eyes. "I don't normally do yoga. I take it _you_ do."

"Yeah—yeah, I'm sure it's obvious." Flash laughed. "Considering me all bent in half on the floor earlier."

"Maybe a little." Eddie smirked, but continued. "I used to play baseball. Not so much anymore. Sometimes Anne—my ex—sometimes she and I just play catch, like we used to."

A rustle told Eddie Flash moved. Maybe getting more comfortable.

"You both played?"

Eddie's expression softened. "Softball club in college." He opened his eyes and looked at the dim glow of the fireplace. "She swings hard and throws fast."

"You still love her?"

Eddie glanced over at Flash, who'd moved his laptop to the coffee table and lay on his side, elbow propped against the couch cushion.

"Uh, sorry—that was rude."

Eddie shrugged. "We haven't been together in..." He counted in his head. "...six years. I love her, but I'm not in love with her anymore."

Flash frowned thoughtfully, but he nodded. "I get that."

They lapsed into silence for a while...

Eventually, Flash spoke up again, quietly, letting his head down against the cushions. "I used to play football."

Eddie looked at him.

"I was pretty good—not to toot my own horn, or anything." He laughed, very soft, equal parts fond and sad. "Got trophies, and stuff."

Eddie looked away, to the fire. "Yeah..."

Silence, again...

"Hey, what kind of lotion do you use, anyway?"

Eddie grinned at the sudden change of topic. "It's just lotion."

"No, come on—" Flash sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. "Like, is it fancy? Is it for old people? Is it Gold Bond? Does it smell weird?" His eyes sparkled in the dim firelight, teasing. "I wanna see."

Though he heaved a dramatic sigh (and a small cough), Eddie pulled himself to his feet so he could retrieve his hand lotion from his small suitcase. Just a tube of Aveeno, basic, not too expensive, unscented. He tossed it at Flash, who caught it reflexively.

"See?" Eddie sat back down. "It's just lotion."

Flash popped the cap open with a thoughtful "Hmmmm." He sniffed it, even though there was nothing to sniff. "And this is really all you use?"

"Yes?" Eddie stretched his legs out.

"But your hands are like, freakishly soft." Flash set it on the table, though for a moment he seemed to consider the pros and cons of throwing the tube at Eddie. "You must have a secret."

"Hand to God, Thompson, all I do is put it on before bed."

Flash narrowed his eyes, clearly dissatisfied with that answer, but he just lay back down with a sigh, watching the fire.

A series of buzzes jolted them both out of their quiet reveries—

Eddie and Flash both went for their phones, and sure enough Eddie found a series of texts from his sister—one from Anne, too, but mostly from Mary.

_None of my calls are going through and I can't leave a message so I'm texting you. Call me so I know you got there._

_Starting to worry about you, buttface. Please call me._

_Group leader told me you guys are missing please call me I'm worried_

_If you die I'm gonna kill you_

_I swear to god eddie you better be okay_

It had barely been two days but she seemed to think Eddie was incapable of taking care of himself—although, he supposed if he were in her position he'd be worried too... She didn't know they'd found a cabin, that they were sheltered. For all she knew, they could have been trapped in the car, running through the battery and slowly freezing to death.

He typed out a message as quick as he could manage on the small screen.

_I'm safe. have food and shelter. bad service. don't worry_

It took what felt like ages to send, and for a second, he worried it might not—but it did, finally, off into the ether.

No reply forthcoming. Even if his phone wasn't almost dead, the single bar of service flickered out almost immediately.

Judging by Flash's low curse, he'd lost it too.

***

Mary nearly dropped her phone when she finally got a text from Eddie.

Simple, yes, but everything she could have asked for.

"ANNE!"

A startled yelp, from the other room, and a thud—A moment later, Anne stuck her head through the door, wide-eyed and hair a little wild. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No—" Mary waved her phone at Anne. "Eddie's safe! I just got a text!"

Anne sighed, visibly relaxing. "I thought you hurt yourself." She ran her hand through her curls.

Mary laughed, and pulled her into a one-armed hug, more of a headlock really. "You know there'd be more swearing if that happened." She buried her nose in Anne's short, soft hair for a moment, with a deep breath as she gathered herself.

"Fair enough." Anne stood still for a moment longer, letting Mary hold her, but finally extricated herself from Mary's embrace. She put her hands on Mary's shoulders and held her at arm's length. "What do you say we go out for dinner? To celebrate."

"Mm..." Mary smiled. "Good idea."

***

When it got dark, and the fire had begun to burn low, and they had eaten a pilfered meal of baked beans and canned sausage, Eddie and Flash went to bed.

Though some residual heat gusted along the enclosed space of the loft, it had gotten colder, and Eddie curled into his blankets with a shiver. He lay staring at the wall, listening to the low hum, whirr and click of his oxygen machine, breathing slowly through his nose. His cannula dug slightly into a spot behind his ear but he couldn't bring himself to move.

Too tired, too cold...

Just as he felt himself drifting off to sleep, a whine cut through the quiet.

Eddie frowned.

From below, Flash mumbled something incoherent, though his garbled words clarified into a simple "no no no no—" but then he fell silent again.

Eddie let himself relax, slowly... More of the hum... click, click, click and the soft whoosh of air.

A shout startled him upright, almost pulling his cannula right off of his face—Flash, again, audibly distressed.

Eddie picked up his oxygen concentrator and carried it with him to the edge of the loft, peering down into the darkness.

He could just make out Flash's silhouette on the couch, sitting up straight, seemingly hyperventilating.

"Flash?" Eddie put one hand out to support himself, shivering in the cold air.

No response, just a whimper, though Flash's quick breaths steadied somewhat.

After a few seconds, Flash laid back down, blankets rustling.

Eddie sat against the loft railing, holding his oxygen to his chest, just listening and shivering with his toes curled and his knees half-up. Just in case. In case of what, he wasn't sure. If Flash had another bout of terror, what could he do? Nothing, particularly. But he still didn't want to move.

So he sat there for a while, cold and tense.

***

A soft murmur roused Flash from his sleep. He reached for his phone to check the time, before anything else—almost 5 am. He groaned.

Then tensed—a shadow loomed in the early morning darkness, at the foot of the loveseat. Broad and tall and—

"Flash."

Oh, it was just Eddie.

Flash let out a sigh, and let his head fall back against his pillow. "Jesus, Eddie, you scared me."

"Sorry." Eddie shifted, clothes whispering in the relative silence before he mumbled, "Is there an outlet over there?"

Currently with his phone and laptop plugged into it...

"Yeah. Why?"

"My battery's almost dead... If I plug it in over there maybe I could sleep on the floor."

Flash raised his head, and now that his eyes had adjusted better he could see Eddie holding up his oxygen machine, a little green light blinking on top and the tubing still attached and wrapped around Eddie's face. It whirred quietly.

The fuck was he supposed to say? No, you can't plug your _breathing apparatus_ in because I'm using the outlet?

He wasn't an _asshole_.

"C'mere." Flash gestured him over, pulling his phone charger out of the wall and switching on the flashlight app so Eddie could see.

He'd noticed earlier, a little, but watching Eddie plug in the charger for his machine, Flash noted how big and spindly his hands were. He was bony, under his lean muscles, particularly around the wrists and jaw. Like he needed to eat more, kneeling there with sunken cheeks and dark bags under his eyes.

Eddie pulled his breathing tubes off and left for a moment, back up into the loft.

 _Fwump_ —

A bundle of blankets landed on the floor at the foot of the ladder, and a pillow, and something small and dark. Eddie came back down and moved the coffee table out of the way, setting it behind the ladder and next to the bathroom door, so he could push his stuff into the space in front of the fireplace, on top of the thick fur rug that covered the floorboards.

"Is that a teddy bear?" Flash grinned, as Eddie set up his little nest—he seemed out of breath.

"Yes." Eddie laid himself down, attaching himself to his oxygen once again, and curled up under the blankets. "My ex-wife gave it to me last year, while I was going through chemotherapy."

Flash settled down too, pulling his own blankets up snug around his ears.

"It's cute."

Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that turned into a weak cough. He grew quiet, though he breathed heavily for a few moments as they both relaxed in the half-darkness.

Aside from Eddie's gradually slowing breaths and the hum of his air, the cabin was mostly silent. Occasionally, the walls creaked, and Flash could make out the strong whip of the wind outside. It got louder for a second, then died down. He closed his eyes and just listened.

Minutes of that passed. Wind growing into a frenzy, and then back down. Silence between him and Eddie.

He figured Eddie had fallen asleep, and determined to do the same but then, subdued, Eddie murmured, "You kept me awake earlier."

"What?" Flash opened his eyes, frowning.

"You don't remember?" Eddie breathed deeply.

Flash shifted so he could get a better look at Eddie. "Remember what?"

"Oh—" Eddie looked back at him, his features barely visible in the shadows. "You shouted. Were you having a nightmare?"

Right, of course.

"Oh, jeez, I'm _so_ sorry—" Flash wrinkled his nose. "I get those sometimes—night terrors. I should have let you know but I forgot. I guess the stress must have got to me."

Eddie sighed, thoughtfully.

Then, "I hope you sleep better tomorrow."

Flash couldn't help but smile. "You too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did I choose aveeno? idk. I have a bottle?? it's not smelly?


	4. dark eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We got some totally platonic touching, bro, some really friendly concern, definitely no one crushing on anyone at all... lmfao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 3
> 
> Updates will probably slow down after today as I've been working kinda slowly on ch 5, but I just wanted this chapter to go up the same day as the April Fool's update... ([LINK](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18299600))

Flash sucked in a breath as he sat on the edge of the tub—freezing cold against his skin, even in the late morning. But it slowly warmed from his body heat.

Of course, then he actually sat _in_ the tub, and found himself bare-ass on cold-porcelain again. But the hot water certainly worked well, and billows of steam rose around him as the bath filled and his shivers subsided.

Hopefully whoever owned this place wouldn't mind their water bill being a little higher this winter.

Flash let himself relax.

He took his time, letting the aches ease out of his cold-tensed muscles before reaching for his shampoo, lined up with his toiletries along the edge of the bath tub within easy reach.

Simple routine—wash and condition his hair, careful as he rinsed. Scrub his face, and lather up his body. He'd found a hand mirror and a bag of suction cups in one of the drawers under the sink, so he stuck the mirror onto the wall and took the opportunity to shave his patchy stubble, too. Nothing like a smooth face to pretend he had his life under control. Definitely not stranded, no way.

A little bit of Old Spice, and he was good to go—minty fresh and baby-faced.

He stayed in the bath a while longer, anyway, just because he could.

Nowhere to go, no one to see—well, there was Eddie, but he wasn't exactly going anywhere any time soon, either.

Flash leaned back, as comfortable as he could get, just listening to the wind outside and the occasional creak as Eddie moved around in the main room of the cabin.

Calm, quiet.

Almost peaceful enough for Flash to forget that they were squatting in a stranger's cabin, stranded because of a freak blizzard, and cut off from the rest of civilization until the weather subsided. Or at least until one of their cellphones managed to make a stronger connection, but that seemed unlikely at that point, considering they could still barely connect even after the snowfall had dropped off so sharply.

The sink ran briefly in the kitchen.

Probably Eddie making something to eat.

Definitely not their food, but, again, Flash had to hope the owners wouldn't mind.

It was that or nothing, after all.

He listened to Eddie clanging around in the kitchen and closed his eyes, breathing in the steam and the smell of soap. Weird to be alone, but also _not_ alone, for the first time in a few days. Not counting the nighttime.

More alone than most of the day at least, and more private compared to their sleeping arrangement... Ex-sleeping arrangement, probably. Seemed likely that Eddie would probably start sleeping on the floor instead of the loft, judging by last night. Even _less_ private.

Flash trailed a finger up the top of his thigh...

No, Eddie might hear, or notice how long Flash was taking.

Better to just get out now.

He pulled the plug on the bath water.

***

The wind was frighteningly loud, actually howling and drawing strange moans and wails from the trees outside, rattling the windows, sometimes sending bursts of icy snow clattering against them. Eddie let the curtain fall back over the window, too cloudy out for any real sunlight to come through, and turned his attention to the gently boiling water on the stove. More pasta, but this time a box of pseudo-gourmet mac and cheese, and a can of chili sitting at the ready, waiting to be mixed in with the final product.

Flash cursed in the bathroom, and then the door opened—Eddie glanced over his shoulder as Flash awkwardly shoved his way out into the open, hair hanging damp around his face.

Eddie grabbed the colander from where he'd left it on the counter, and set it in the sink.

"Whatcha makin'?"

He stirred the not-quite-done shells with half a shrug. "Chili mac."

"Ooh... yummy." Flash wheeled up beside him, peering up, as if he might be able to stretch his spine to standing height.

Eddie let out a soft huff of laughter. "What happened to 'don't steal'?"

Turning in his wheelchair, Flash said, "Listen." He rolled over to the living area with one well-practiced motion. "It's been like, basically three days... two and a half? Whatever. If we're gonna be stuck here, I'm not gonna insist on starving." He fell quiet, rustling—rummaging around in one of his bags. "You know?"

"I'm certainly not complaining." Eddie poured the shell noodles into the colander, a big cloud of steam rising up. He leaned away, keeping his face clear. "Don't know what I would have done if you turned out to be a stickler for rules, in such extenuating circumstances." He paused. "Tie you up, maybe."

Absolute silence.

Eddie grinned down at the sink.

"Wha—" Flash's voice was muffled for a second, but then it clarified—"What?! Excuse me!? Did you just say that out loud?!"

Eddie laughed, though it turned into more of a wheeze pretty quickly.

"Hey," Flash moved toward Eddie, hesitant. "You okay?"

He met Flash's eyes for a moment, out of breath—

Flash had put on a thick mossy green sweater, the same one he'd worn on the car ride here, and his hair stuck up a bit, tousled, face lined with just a hint of concern.

Eddie cleared his throat and looked away, a little too warm, suddenly. "I'm fine."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go grab some more firewood from the porch."

"Have fun?"

Flash laughed, on his way to the door.

Eddie turned his attention back to making lunch, pretending the warmth creeping up the back of his neck was just from the heat of the stove.

***

"Is this yours?"

Flash looked up from his game of virtual solitaire.

Oh, Jesus.

"Uhhhhhhhh..."

Eddie inspected the plastic bag in his hand, which _had_ been in Flash's suitcase... but now, clearly, was no longer in his suitcase. Obviously. Mortifyingly. It must have fallen out when he grabbed his clothes that morning.

"Maybe." Flash would have fought his blush if he could, but that _always_ proved fruitless. He could feel his ears burning red already, and knew the rest of his face wouldn't be far behind.

"Were you planning on setting some bases this weekend?" Eddie tossed the bag of condoms at Flash with a playful grin, eyes crinkling at the corners as he moved to sit in the rocking chair by the fire. The smuggest goddamn look Flash had ever seen in his life.

Flash shoved his little "emergency kit" into his pocket, straightening up against the arm of the loveseat. "Listen—" He set his laptop aside, carefully, and reached for his wheelchair. "You never know what could happen! I could've met a really nice woman, or something." He ignored Eddie's incredulous expression as he made his way over to where he'd left his suitcase after his bath that afternoon and muttered, "I just like to be prepared."

He shoved his kit into the deepest pocket of his suitcase he could find, pointedly avoiding looking up at Eddie—he didn't wanna know what kind of face he was making; laughing, or judgmental, or what.

But when Flash finally looked up, Eddie was just watching him thoughtfully. Intent, almost intense—his eyes seemed so dark, but maybe that was just because it was getting darker.

"What?" Flash made his way back to the loveseat, brushing off the goosebumps that rose up his arms as a byproduct of the temperature dropping with the sunset.

Eddie shrugged, turning his attention to the low fire. "Nothing."

It was hard to tell in the firelight, but Flash could have sworn Eddie was blushing.

***

Mary wiped her face with her towel as she sat on the bench with a huff. She took her moment, drinking from her water bottle, listening to the sounds of the gym. She'd gotten a lot done today, at the courthouse (and the gym, of course), and looked forward to a slow night at home with Anne. She'd just need a shower, first, lest she be banished to the couch for stinky sweat crimes.

She checked her phone—Anne asking if she wanted pizza for dinner (a resounding yes), that text from Eddie...

She sighed. Glad he was safe, but still nervous not to hear from him.

But he was a big boy, he was in his thirties. Not her little baby brother, anymore, crying on the front lawn. But sometimes she looked at the photos in her phone—like now—and saw how skinny he'd been just a few months ago, how much he'd wasted away in the past few years, and she couldn't help that protective pang.

But she had to trust in him, and in God, and know he'd be safe. He'd come out of worse predicaments alive and kicking.

She put her phone away and got ready to leave—

Anne was waiting for her outside, with a smile, all done up in her business clothes. She wrinkled her nose but allowed Mary to kiss her on the cheek, taking her bag as she said, "Break any punching bags today?"

"That only happened one time, I'll have you know!" She walked beside Anne, to the car. "One time!"

Anne laughed, and threw Mary's bag in the trunk. "Okay, She-Hulk."

They got into the car and headed home.

***

The wind continued to howl outside as darkness fell. One of the shutters had gotten loose, on the window, and banged against the side of the cabin loudly with each gust and whistle.

Eddie sat on the floor in front of the door, away from the fire, cleaning the filters in his oxygen concentrator, singing quietly to himself... Flash sat with his arms on the back of the couch, watching. Eddie had rolled his sleeves up, exposing hairy forearms, lean muscle, bony-but-not-petite wrists... the soft skin on the insides of his wrist each marked with a single pale scar.

Flash had caught glimpses of them before, here and there. Not just during this trip, but during their group therapy sessions, sometimes. He never asked about them, whether they were from surgery or something else. He had an inkling, of course, but again: he never pried. He knew how it was. People's questions, entitlement, pity.

He couldn't deny his curiosity, of course... but...

"Hey, you wanna see my scar from when I almost died?"

Eddie looked up with a frown. "What?"

Flash pushed his bangs out of his face, to show his forehead—he'd looked at it in the mirror a thousand times; a thin but jagged scar that bisected his right eyebrow and crawled across part of his forehead to his temple. It had flattened and lightened considerably in the past few years, and he barely even thought of it anymore, hidden behind his hair, but when he ran his finger over it he could still feel the slightly raised, tight skin.

"When I was twenty-three or... twenty-four, I don't remember—I got in this really bad wreck." Flash leaned his head against the back of the couch, still holding his hair out of the way so Eddie could get a good look. "Busted my head open, I guess. I don't remember a lot of it."

Eddie fished his reading glasses from his pocket, up on his knees to see.

"Is this..." He reached out, hesitant. His fingers brushed over the back of Flash's hand, and Flash moved it out of the way so Eddie could touch his scar. "When you were nervous, on the drive here, was that because of this?" His hands were warm, and very soft.

Flash hummed, letting his fingertips drift over Eddie's knuckles. "Yeah, kinda." He settled his hand over the back of Eddie's wrist, careful not to touch the undersides. "I think I mentioned before that I've got a pretty bad history with driving—I've been in a lot of accidents, and it just... makes me skittish, you know?"

"Yeah..." Eddie seemed like he might say something more, for a moment, but then he averted his eyes and pulled away.

Back to his air filters.

Flash touched his own face, where Eddie's hand had been, and watched him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to balance eddie still being a little weird with eddie being a human dude who's just been thru some shit is a little hard lol... trying to get the smugness and sometimes awkward jokes in there...
> 
>  
> 
> I want them to kiss! but I must be patient.


	5. Fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Physical intimacy must come eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> night 3/day 4
> 
> i took like.... an entire week off from working on this after the april fools' update lmfao
> 
> This chapter contains a brief mention of suicide near the end, when Flash asks how Eddie ended up in therapy.

Eddie sang to himself as he prepared dinner, a pot on the stove and can opener in-hand. Etta James and a can of tuna fish. More pasta, third day in a row at this point—a little tiresome but better than nothing, and he could shake it up with some spices from the cupboard... probably. He didn't really know what would go well with tuna.

The wind continued to rattle and howl outside, and most of the snow had been knocked from the tree branches, leaving them bare and black against the white ground and the gray sky when Eddie looked out the window. The trees swayed, and snow pushed up the front steps.

Eddie let his singing become humming, as he fiddled with the can.

The lid hadn't quite cut cleanly and stubbornly clung to the edges, ragged on spots.

"Ow—" Eddie drew his hand back, nose wrinkling. "Shit."

Well, he'd gotten the lid off, at least. He ran his nicked finger under the faucet and inspected it closely. It oozed blood, a little too deep to just leave alone.

"Flash?"

Flash twisted around to look over his shoulder at Eddie from his spot on the couch. "What's up?"

"Do you have a bandage?"

Flash frowned. "Yeah, did you hurt yourself?"

"I did." Eddie left the can on the counter, and the noodles (nearly done) on the stove, and moved away from the kitchen, closer to Flash. "Just a cut." He stopped, hovering awkwardly by the couch as his finger bled.

"I have a first aid kit." Flash pulled himself up, half over the back of the loveseat, pointing down at his suitcase. "In there, in the like, side pocket but not the little one. The big one."

Eddie crouched down and found the specified pocket, and sure enough there was a small first aid kit. Flash took it from him and popped it open, settling back on the couch, picking out a band-aid and a little packet of wipes.

"C'mere, lemme see."

He held out his hand, tearing open the paper packet with his teeth, and Eddie let him disinfect the cut with a little wince. Not too bad, but it still stung, and he'd gotten a lot more sensitive since his most recent (and final) bout of chemotherapy last year.

"Got yourself pretty good, huh?" Flash was gentle, as he wrapped the band-aid around Eddie's finger, smoothing out the edges carefully.

Could Eddie have done it himself? Of course.

But... he kind of enjoyed being taken care of, truth be told. After so much time alone, pushing people away, isolating himself... finally having people who seemed to care about him like this? Not even just his sister and Anne, either, but this man who he'd befriended through therapy and the FEAST center? No obligation beyond friendship, no sense of duty, no direct ties. He just cared.

Eddie had to be careful not to ruin this.

"Thank you..."

Flash beamed at him, sunny and dimpled. "No problem, dude."

The lights went out.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The wind howled, and the only sound was that of the pot on the stove gradually slowing from a boil to a simmer as the burner cooled, and their own breaths.

"Uhh..." Flash shifted slightly, in the darkness. Lit by just the fire, low and golden.

"I suppose we're having a fire-lit dinner."

Resigned to their powerlessness, Eddie drained the pasta, careful with his bandaged finger, and mixed it together with the tuna and some frozen corn—it ended up lukewarm, but it was food, and Eddie found himself strangely content, sitting beside Flash on the loveseat and eating his college-style meal, huddled into a blanket with their shoulders brushing.

***

Flash stirred awake around three in the morning, according to the clock on his phone. The wind had died down, and it was silent otherwise. Fully silent, no soft whirr from Eddie's oxygen machine, no hum from the refrigerator—just Eddie's shaky, shallow breathing and Flash's own heartbeat.

He let out a quiet whine, stretching on the couch, and rolled onto his side to peer into the darkness at Eddie's silhouette.

"Eddie?"

Eddie grunted.

"You okay?"

"Too quiet."

Flash frowned. "Did your battery die?"

Blankets rustled, as Eddie shifted. "Ten minutes ago."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Ten minutes."

Flash sat up, drawing his blanket up around his shoulders as he considered Eddie's shadowed form. Very still, breathing a little fast—Eddie shivered, breath catching, and scrunched up tighter.

Flash fought off a shiver himself, the air having grown much colder overnight.

"Hey." He grabbed his pillow and asked, "Do you want me to sleep next to you?"

For a moment, Eddie didn't answer, but then he said, "I won't say no."

Flash smiled—he slid off of the couch, taking his blankets and pillow with him, and set himself up next to Eddie. Eddie scooted over a little bit, so they could both fit onto the fur rug that covered the wood flooring, and Flash draped his blankets over the ones Eddie already had. He patted his pillow, and wormed in under the covers with Eddie, a nice pocket of body heat that eased his shivering almost immediately. Eddie, too, gradually relaxed in their little shared nest of warmth, and his breathing calmed.

"Better?"

Eddie sighed. "Thank you."

"Are you gonna be okay without your oxygen?"

Eddie nodded, in the dark. Mumbled, "I won't die." He fell silent, turning his head slightly. "Anxious, maybe, but... I'll be fine."

He did spend most of the day without it...

"For some reason I assumed something happens when you go to sleep that just makes you... need it more...?" Flash laughed quietly, under his breath.

Eddie shifted, and his knee brushed Flash's thigh—he pulled away, slightly. "You're not entirely wrong."

Great. That didn't make Flash nervous at all.

They lapsed into silence.

Eddie's teddy bear was nestled between them, soft and fluffy against Flash's wrist. He brushed a finger across one of its ears, thoughtful, and inched closer. Too dark to make out even the vaguest of features, beyond the black silhouette of Eddie's head and shoulders.

Eddie turned onto his other side, facing away and taking his teddy bear with him.

Flash adjusted their blankets and moved in close, though he refrained from putting his arm around Eddie, or anything too forward. Just sharing warmth, bodies touching in places, waiting for sleep to come and then morning to wake them.

***

Eddie slept poorly, though Flash's presence at his back calmed his nerves and helped him focus on breathing evenly and staying calm until he slipped into a fitful slumber. Now it was six am and he shivered his way back from the bathroom to lay down beside Flash once more. Flash shifted in his sleep with a small noise, moving with just the slightest nudge from Eddie. Then right back again, latching onto Eddie with a sigh.

Eddie held very still, heat pooling across his face and neck as Flash's arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn't as though Eddie hadn't fallen asleep on top of Flash their first day here.

This closeness was nothing new, didn't mean anything.

But... it had been so long since anyone held him like this, and Flash was... well, _Flash_.

He clutched his bear to his chest and listened to Flash's strong, even breathing; to the winter birds just waking up outside. The receding whisper of the wind. Felt Flash's breath on the back of his neck, and the firm way his arms held Eddie.

"He doesn't mean anything by it..." His own voice, whispering into the barely brightening darkness. Flash stirred, and he hushed himself.

Somehow, he fell back asleep.

***

Mary stayed in bed a while longer, listening to the pipes running as Anne took her morning shower.

She didn't want to get up.

She had to get up eventually.

When Anne emerged, fresh and clean, Mary finally forced herself to roll out of bed, pushing her long, wild hair out of her face. She pecked Anne on the cheek on her way to the bathroom, eliciting a smile.

The usual routine: brush her teeth, wash her face, brush her hair, put it into long twin braids using the repetitive motions to say a set of Hail Mary's under her breath. Into her clothes, simple and professional. She looked good in mauve, if she said so herself.

Anne looked lovely in a baby blue pantsuit so pale it was almost white, impeccably coiffed, makeup perfect—Mary pressed her lips to Anne's temple and Anne ducked away, laughing.

"Trying to escape?" Mary grinned and caught Anne around the waist, gently.

Anne snorted, inelegant and adorable, and leaned back into Mary's embrace. "Why would I ever want to escape you?"

Mary kissed Anne's cheek.

***

They'd opened all the curtains in the small cabin, and the fire burned strong, but it was still a little dim in the living room area—brightest in the kitchen—and Flash ended up setting his book aside with an exasperated sigh.

Eddie sat curled up beside him in a blanket, eyes closed but awake, breathing slowly and deliberately, murmuring to himself occasionally. Prayer, meditation, Flash couldn't be entirely sure, but it seemed to calm Eddie, so he didn't interrupt.

After a while of that, as Flash spaced out, staring at the fire, Eddie's breathing grew shallow and he slouched slightly—Flash kept him from sliding off of the couch as he nodded off. The motion pulled Eddie back into consciousness, though, and he mumbled something incoherent as Flash pulled him against the arm of the couch.

"Hey, don't mind me." Flash took his hands off of Eddie with a crooked smile.

Eddie blinked at him, bleary.

Flash tilted his head, eyebrows quirking.

Eddie grinned and muttered, "You're like a puppy."

"O—oh." Flash blushed.

Eddie let out a soft sigh, expression tightening for a moment as he rubbed his forehead and straightened up somewhat. He closed his eyes again with a soft frown and seemed to slip into his breathing exercises again, but his hand fidgeted—he fiddled with the hem of the blanket draped around his shoulders, running his fingers along the seam, occasionally making a serious face as if deep in thought.

Flash watched him for a few minutes.

His stomach grumbled.

Eddie peeked at him through one open eye, mouth twitching into a smirk. "You want me to make lunch, I'm sure."

"...Listen, I would do it, it's just—"

"I know, I know." Eddie shrugged out of his blanket and pushed himself to his feet gingerly, with a quiet grunt. "It's fine." He stopped by the ladder to grab his cane, and made his slow way over to the kitchen...

If Flash didn't know any better, he might have thought Eddie was trying to make him feel bad.

At least a little bit.

Flash pulled himself into his wheelchair to see if he couldn't be of some help.

***

Eddie watched the water swirl down the drain as he washed the dishes. His eyes burned from the dry weather and his poor sleep last night, and his head hurt. But Flash was humming something, clearly audible when Eddie shut off the water, and it livened his spirits a little. Just a little, though. He frowned, drying his hands, and took his cane from where he'd leaned it up against the cabinet.

Now, normally, these days he could do without... But his head swam, even after eating, so he used the cane just in case, even such a short distance to the couch.

He sat with a sigh, and Flash looked sidelong at him, as Eddie pulled the blanket around his shoulders and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Flash tilted his head, again in that particularly dog-like way he had. "You look tired."

Eddie didn't like dogs.

"No kidding." Eddie rested his chin on his knees with a scowl. He took a breath and lowered his legs, leaning back against the cushions.

"Could you... charge your thingy in the car? In the cigarette lighter?"

Eddie shook his head. "Lost the adapter."

"Oh." Flash twiddled his hands in his lap.

Uncomfortable silence draped across the cabin, the two of them sitting against either arm of the loveseat, space to spare between them. Eddie tilted his head back, to stare up at the ceiling. He coughed slightly—a quick, dry, muffled sound—and closed his eyes. The fire crackled slightly, and fabric rustled as Flash shifted, creaking the loveseat. Eddie pulled the blanket closer around him, curling his bare toes against the fur rug at his feet.

"So, um..." Flash, quietly.

Eddie turned his head to look at Flash with a frown.

"How'd you join the group, anyway? It's been like, four months... but I feel like I don't know a lot about you."

Eddie looked right back up at the ceiling.

But he thought about it, and eventually...

"I tried to kill myself."

"Oh." Flash paused before saying, "I'm sorry—"

"Flash." Eddie straightened up and turned to face Flash, pulling one of his legs up onto the cushion. "I can talk about it. It's fine."

Flash's expression tensed, but he gave Eddie a single firm nod. "I wanna know more about you."

Eddie reached out for Flash's hand—hesitated just before touching him, but when Flash inched his hand closer to Eddie's, face open and expectant, Eddie took his hand. He turned his own hand over, palm up, and guided Flash's fingers under the hem of his sleeve to feel the mostly-faded scar there. He pressed Flash's hand into place, looking down at their hands.

"Do you remember when we met?"

Flash shifted slightly. Eddie caught a slight grimace. "I... I know it wasn't in therapy."

Eddie looked up at him. Saw a face slightly red, frowning, lines creased between his eyebrows, eyes downturned.

Embarrassed, frustrated with himself.

Eddie reached up with his free hand and brushed Flash's bangs away from his face, just enough to brush a fingertip across the scar on his forehead. Flash's fingers twitched against his wrist. "I don't expect you to remember." He paused. "It wasn't long after I slit my wrists. A few months, maybe."

Flash met his eyes, still frowning but softer.

"You were a new volunteer."

Flash's face smoothed slightly. "At the homeless shelter."

Eddie held back a small smile. "I showed you what to do."

"Oh!" Flash's fingers tightened around Eddie's wrist, and he grabbed him by the shoulder with his other hand. "You looked totally different back then!"

Eddie laughed, ducking his head. "Eyebrows make a big difference."

"I can't believe that was you! You have so much hair now!" Flash calmed himself, letting Eddie go, though he didn't pull away entirely. "I didn't realize... That was like, two years ago, right?"

"Just about." Eddie let Flash withdraw his touch, and looked down again, thoughtfully. "You smile more, now." He glanced up, to catch Flash's eyes.

Flash clasped his own hands in his lap but he didn't look away. "Yeah, I... you do too."

Eddie drew his other leg up onto the couch, adjusting his blanket. "I guess so."

Flash broke eye contact first, going pink again. His fingers brushed Eddie's, just for a moment, but then he straightened his shoulders and pulled back. "I'm gonna go grab some more firewood from the porch."

"...Sure."

Flash left Eddie on the couch, with the low fire and a lingering touch on his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flash still doesn't like FULLY remember the few weeks they interacted at the FEAST center but he like, vaguely remembers now that Eddie reminded him--now that he's remembering the mostly bald, real skinny and sad guy who really liked handing out soup... but that's probably about all he remembers. But that's okay! They're friends for real now!


	6. Let me be your teddy bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> night 4... just a short one

Flash leaned a little closer to Eddie, as Eddie flipped through the photos on his phone, glasses balanced on his hooked nose.

"This is my sister, Mary." Eddie pointed to a woman in one picture, with long bleached hair and a strong jaw, just as striking of a nose, and a stern but fond expression as she looked into the camera. Beside her, a woman with short. curly hair—a blonde quiff—and a smile. "This is Anne, my ex-wife." They had their arms around each other, and Anne leaned her head against Mary's shoulder.

Flash frowned. "Are they...?"

"Together?" Eddie flashed him a grin. "Yeah, it turns out Anne was much more attracted to my _sister_ than she was to me." He flipped to the next photo, a selfie taken by Mary, of her at Eddie's bedside. Eddie with patchy, thinning hair, hooked up to the machines, skinny and exhausted but smiling weakly. "I don't blame her. Mary's amazing."

Quietly, Flash said, "I'm sure you're amazing, too."

Eddie turned his head, an amused smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Give yourself some time to get to know me better."

"Hey," Flash gave Eddie's shoulder a pat. "What would the therapist say if he heard that, huh?"

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Really. You've been through a lot, obviously."

Still looking down at his phone, lingering on a photo of a young man in a college sweatshirt, Eddie murmured, "So have you. Aren't you a veteran, or something?" He pushed his reading glasses up.

Flash shrugged. "Yeah but, that's not like..." He gestured at Eddie's phone.

"I gave up."

"So did I!" Flash frowned. "Not like, suicide but... you know, sometimes you just sit around and... stop leaving the house and..." He trailed off. " _I_ think you're amazing."

Eddie was silent for a moment. But then... "This was my first boyfriend." He pointed at the picture he had open.

Changing the subject.

"O—oh." Flash looked closer. A friendly looking young man, presumably 20-something at the time the photo was taken, in a red and white ESU sweatshirt. "He seems... nice."

 Eddie laughed, then coughed a little, and said, "I haven't spoken to him in twelve years but he was nice back then."

Flash nodded. "Right." He cleared his throat. "Right, you keep a photo of your ex-boyfriend from twelve years ago in your phone?"

"..." Eddie continued to look down at his phone as if it might offer an answer. "That's strange, isn't it?"

"A little?" Flash shifted, and rested his forearm against Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie swiped to the next photo—it was just one of the default phone backgrounds. "I guess I'm sentimental." He pocketed his phone, careful not to jostle Flash too much, and folded his hands in his lap, staring at the fireplace.

"Well..." Flash let his head rest against his arm, on Eddie's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with being a little weird and sentimental..."

Eddie didn't seem to know what to say to that, just breathing a little uneven, very still.

"Hey." Flash fished for his own phone. "I'll show you some pictures too, how about that?"

Eddie turned his head slightly, to see as Flash showed him pictures of his family, skipping past a couple of embarrassing selfies. Him and his buddies, Harry, Betty, Peter—

"I know him." Eddie pointed at Peter. "He's a jerk."

Flash pouted. "He's my best friend." He zoomed in on Peter's face. "Without him, you and I wouldn't have met, you know—he and Betty got me to volunteer at the homeless shelter and into therapy and stuff. You should thank him." He grinned at Eddie. "Once we get back home."

Eddie grumbled, but he stayed snug against Flash, looking through his photos.

Even a before and after pic of Flash's apartment, from Peter and Betty's little intervention...

And an AA coin Flash had forgotten to delete from his camera roll after posting it on Facebook. He trashed that.

Eddie was very quiet, and when Flash shifted to see him, his eyes were closed, and his head nodding.

"Eddie?"

Eddie made a soft noise.

Flash smiled. He set his phone aside, and tugged at Eddie. "C'mere."

Despite his size, and his grumpy countenance, Eddie went easily, so Flash got him to lay down without too much trouble, wrapped up in his blanket.

Eddie sighed.

It wasn't exactly dark out, but it had dimmed enough to feel late, and the fire was warm. Flash let Eddie lay on top of him, closing his own eyes as well, and wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders.

It was a good way to keep warm, after all.

***

He had done everything he always did. Prayed, brushed his teeth, washed his face, gone to the bathroom, moisturized his hands... But without his oxygen concentrator running, without the quiet noises of air moving, without the cannula in his nose, Eddie lay awake beside Flash on the floor. Stiff back and hips, already, though the thick rug kept it from being too uncomfortable. But it was still the floor, and he still couldn't sleep, and he still felt tense and anxious, trying to breathe slowly and deeply but ending up with a sort of mid-speed shallow respiration and a pounding headache.

But still, warmth beside him... His bear tucked under his arm.

Flash mumbled something in his sleep, and Eddie envied his ability to lose consciousness so quickly.

He stared up at the black darkness.

Outside, an owl hooted.

Eddie rolled onto his side, away from Flash.

Flash shifted slightly.

Eddie rolled onto his other side, hesitant, with the bear squished between them.

"Flash?"

Another mumble.

"Flash."

Flash took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "Hm?"

"Could I hold you?"

For a moment, Flash was silent, but then he breathed out a soft laugh and scooted close to Eddie, turning his back to him. "Snuggle away, big guy."

Eddie ignored the heat creeping across his face and neck, moving his bear out of the way so he could wrap his arms around Flash. Flash nestled into him with another sigh, and seemed to fall right back asleep in Eddie's embrace. He was warm, and strong, and just a little soft; relaxed and trusting. Eddie clung to him, and fought to control his breathing, overcome with an unplaceable tug of emotion.

"You okay?"

Not asleep, after all.

Eddie pulled his hand away to rub at his eyes. "Fine."

"You don't sound fine." Flash turned around. their faces just inches apart in the shadows. He pulled back slightly, though he stayed close, and kept his hand on Eddie's arm. "Are you crying?"

Eddie shook his head, though Flash probably couldn't even see it.

"Hm?"

"No." Eddie turned away from Flash, once again hugging his bear close to his chest.

Silence, between them.

Flash wrapped his arms around Eddie, pressing up close against his back. His voice was a soft whisper, as he said, "I know what it's like, okay?" He was careful not to squeeze, and kept his arms around Eddie's waist instead of his chest. "Sometimes you just need a hug."

Eddie swallowed a shaky breath and nodded.


	7. Somewhere beyond the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...there watching for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5
> 
>  
> 
> I lied about there being only 7-8 chapters... probably gonna be closer to 9? 10?  
> I'm stuck right now tbh

"I'm so sorry." Flash covered his lap with his pillow, red-hot, sitting against the front of the couch. "I didn't, um—" He grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Eddie laughed, quietly, sat up against the cold fireplace and wrapped around with a blanket, blushing just as brightly.

"Don't laugh at me!" Flash threw his hands down, not really angry, but certainly embarrassed.

 "It's—" Eddie coughed slightly. "It's fine." He lowered his blanket, adjusting the way it hung around his shoulders, and shot Flash a smirk. "Though, if I didn't know any better I'd think you had the hots for me." He winked.

"What!" Flash flushed deeper, to his ears and his chest, fighting off the urge to bury his face in his hands. "I'm not—I—! It's just—" He flopped over, onto the rug, sticking his face into the blankets and the soft fur with a muffled groan.

Eddie snorted. "Relax." Fabric rustled as he moved closer, and Flash really wanted to tell him to not do that, but all Eddie did was lay down beside him and say, "It happens."

Flash peeked at him. Not too close, thankfully, or he might have had a little heart attack, but close enough to make out his dark blue eyes in the early morning light leaking through the windows from the kitchen. "Oh yeah?" He smiled at Eddie. "You wake up with morning wood wedged into your back often?"

With a soft hum, Eddie seemed to consider it. "Unfortunately no."

Flash raised his eyebrows.

He shifted onto his side. "You're single, right?"

"Who's asking?" Eddie's expression shifted back to that teasing playfulness.

Flash rolled his eyes.

But Eddie said, "Yeah," a little more seriously. "I haven't been in a relationship in a while." He moved his hand but then hesitated, and pulled it against his chest. "It's hard to make friends when you're dying."

"...You made friends with me." Flash scooted just a little bit closer.

Eddie watched him, silent.

Flash knew this feeling. He'd spent a lot of his life trying to recontextualize it into admiration, camaraderie, a simple friendliness, but... Through his failed stint at college, through his time in the military, looking back on locker room conversations and supposedly platonic private moments... Having talked to his therapist about the way he sometimes felt around Peter...

Flash hid his face in the blankets again, so he wouldn't have to look at Eddie's weirdly intense eyes.

He heard Eddie sit up and move away, with a quiet murmur—"I'm going to boil some water for a bath..."

"M-hm."

Flash lay there just listening to the various noises as Eddie made his way back and forth, settling by the fireplace with a pot of water—no power, no hot water heater.  Eventually Flash unhid his face to watch, admiring the calmness of the scene, like some kind of old painting or something. Dim and golden when Eddie got the fire going—he leaned away with an uncomfortable grimace.

"Hey," Flash frowned and pushed himself upright. "You shouldn't be breathing that in, let me do it."

For a moment, a certain stubborn set to Eddie's jaw made him think Eddie wouldn't let Flash take over, but then Eddie  moved away and Flash took his place to make sure the fire was set up right, messing with the metal grille that slid into the bricks. Sturdy enough to hold a big soup pot full of water. Flash settled just a bit to the side, not directly in the heat of the fireplace, but still plenty warm.

Eddie sat in the rocking chair closeby and watched.

***

Eddie sank into the bath with a sigh. The mix of cooling water waiting for new boiling water had balanced it out into a just-hot-enough temperature that eased his aching hips and back and seeped the morning chill from his toes and fingers. He rested his chin on his pulled-up knees, too lanky to stretch his legs out, and closed his eyes as he listened to the silence.

Not full silence—there was the dripping faucet, and some birds outside, filtering through the same tiny window that barely lit the bathroom with the help of an industrial flashlight they'd found in the cupboard. Largely quiet, though, beside those few small, sparse sounds.

He let himself down so he could wash his hair, eyes closed to the half-bright darkness, the clunks of his own elbow against the tub echoing through the water.

He couldn't think of another time he'd felt so simultaneously at peace and run through with anxiety.

Maybe standing on the beach as a teenager, feeling the seawater and sludgy wet sand pulling at him, toward the horizon.

The sea...

Eddie began to sing, quietly—once upon a time he might have belted it out, consequences be damned, but the past six years had sapped a lot of his confidence away. Not that he didn't still try to fake his way through various social interactions. He could muster a good smirk, a good smugness, especially around people he found he enjoyed the company of.

But singing felt like such a "before" thing, lately. A college-aged Eddie kind of thing, finding his confidence through theater and using it to flirt with his first-and-only boyfriend, or with Anne, or just to cheer himself up on a down day.

But at his doctor's insistence, feeling more secure with Anne and Mary's support, he'd begun to sing again recently.

A help for his lungs, for his confidence.

He sang through his bath, as the water lost heat. Every little bit; soap and shampoo, a clean shave.

After, he sat on the cold toilet seat to rub lotion into his hands, his arms, his feet. Shea butter balm for his face.

He had to hurry, though, so cold was the bathroom in the dead of winter.

Ah.

He'd left his clothes in the living room.

Eddie wrapped the towel around his waist, worried less about his own dignity and more about Flash's, and opened the door to the much warmer main room of the cabin.

As he emerged, Flash glanced at him—immediate double-take then an overly polite aversion of the eyes, shielding his face with one hand. "Oh, uh, hey, hi, did you...??"

"Forgot my clothes."

"Great, cool."

Eddie normally would have just changed right in the living room, but Flash had turned so red hidden behind his hand, he had to take some pity... He grabbed his clothes and retreated back into the freezing cold bathroom with a barely suppressed grin.

He caught a mumbled, "Jesus Christ" as he shut the door behind him.

***

"Have they found him yet?" A small frown creased Anne's forehead as she looked at Mary.

Mary sighed and sat down beside her in their booth. "Not yet. His phone still isn't in service. But I..." She fiddled with one of the napkin-wrapped bundles of silverware. "I'm worried but I want to think he's safe, like he said."

Anne reached for her hand, twining their fingers together to give her hand a squeeze. "He's resilient. I'm sure he's fine."

"I know." Mary turned her head to lean in, to brush a gentle kiss against Anne's face. "I just can't help thinking of the little boy I grew up with... always crying and being picked on."

"Trust him." Anne kissed her cheek.

Mary smiled.

The waitress approached with their food, then, and Mary turned her attention away from her worry and to the chicken marsala in front of her.

She and Anne turned their conversation to lighter things while they ate.

***

Over a cold breakfast of canned goods—a dwindling supply—Flash said, "So, uh... this morning, I noticed—" He shrugged away the heat building in his face. "Not the naked thing, um, I heard you singing and... I just wanted to tell you... I like your voice."

Eddie paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Just for a moment, he seemed truly taken aback, at a loss for words. He shoved his food into his mouth and looked away from Flash with a slight frown. Thinking, maybe. Maybe Flash shouldn't have brought it up. But then Eddie cleared his throat and mumbled "Thanks."

Flash smiled.

He picked at his food, acutely aware of the slightly peculiar sound of Eddie's breathing...

"So, what's up with your lungs, anyway?"

Eddie leaned back slightly, as if to get a better look at Flash. "I don't know," he growled. "What's up with your _legs_?"

Okay, yeah, fair.

Flash rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish look. "Oh, you know." He wiggled one thigh a bit. "Fell off." He grinned over at Eddie, in an attempt to lighten the moment. "Misplaced them." He made an exaggerated thoughtful expression, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow. "I'm the only survivor of the Donner party but they ate my legs."

As if he just couldn't help it, Eddie laughed, quiet and entirely unimpressed as he grinned down at his food. He caught Flash's eye. "You're obnoxious, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Oh, yeah. All the time." Flash took a bite. He grew a touch more somber. "But you know I'm a vet. I'm sure you can imagine the kinds of things that lead to amputation on the battle field."

Eddie watched him carefully, but nodded. "And you know I had cancer."

Flash turned to face him a little more fully. At attention.

"I'm not like you. Not a hero, or anything. It's just an unfortunate side effect of treatment." Eddie laughed bitterly to himself. "At least when I die it won't be from cancer."

His face fell, and he stared down at the bowl of cold canned salmon and button mushrooms in his lap. Quiet, pensive.

Flash frowned.

Eddie put his food to the side, pulling the ever-present blanket tighter around him. Avoiding Flash's eyes, suddenly, posture tight. He pulled his legs up and curled in on himself and spoke, very quietly. "You should try to forget about me."

"No—!" Flash lowered his voice. Reached out, and when Eddie didn't shy away, put his hand on his shoulder. "No, I'm not gonna forget you. About this, ever." He squeezed Eddie's shoulder. "I don't care if you die next week, I wanna keep talking to you until I can't anymore."

Eddie took a deep breath, and let it out in a shaky cross between a laugh and a sigh. "Next _week_? You don't have any faith in me, do you?" He rubbed at his eyes, and though he still wouldn't quite look at Flash, he leaned into his touch. "I've got a few years left in me." He closed his eyes for just a moment. "Maybe longer if I've got you around to annoy me." He shot Flash a slightly sharp smirk.

"Hey!" Flash grin and let his arm slide around Eddie's shoulders. "Don’t act like you don't love me."

Eddie was silent for a moment, but... "Whatever you say."

He looked away but didn't try to shrug out of Flash's friendly half-embrace.

Flash pouted at him, then grinned, and gave Eddie a squeeze. "When we get out of this place, I'm gonna be your friend. Okay?"

Eddie grumbled.

" _Okay?_ "

"Okay, okay." Eddie pushed at Flash, until he extricated his arm from Eddie's shoulder. "We'll be friends. Please get off of me."

Flash let himself be shoved away with a wide grin, delighted by the touch of pink coloring Eddie's face even in the half-light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i GENUINELY forgot how this chapter starts and then i looked at the beginning after posting this and just when OH RIGHT BONER JOKES


	8. Missed a spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> night 5/day 6

Eddie woke in the middle of the night, a familiar low hum...

The refrigerator.

He sat up with a sharp breath, blocking the light from the kitchen with his hand over his eyes. Flash stirred beside him with a soft, gentle noise, arm still looped loosely around his waist. Eddie paused. But before he could finish pondering the best way to remove himself from Flash's unconscious embrace, Flash himself rolled away—a quiet groan and then he rubbed his face.

"Wh..." Flash blinked up at Eddie. Gears turning, motors churning. His face lit up. "Oh!"

Eddie took the moment to plug in his oxygen concentrator in the corner, fumbling with the cord as Flash said, stating the very obvious, "The power's back on!"

With a slight smile, Eddie nodded. "Yes."

"No more cold canned food!"

Eddie huffed. "No." He glanced over at Flash—his hair stuck up wildly, and his face was somewhat puffy from sleep, his clothes all rumpled, but he beamed at Eddie.

Naturally, Eddie looked away to hide his own smile and impending blush.

Telltale sounds informed Eddie that Flash had pulled himself into his wheelchair, and a quick glance confirmed that, yes, he was on his way to the bathroom. Eddie shook his head, at his own sudden giddiness, and carefully affixed the breathing cannula to his face. He closed his eyes a moment, breathing slowly. Something familiar, finally, easing the tightness in his chest not fully related to his lungs.

By the time Flash came back from the bathroom, switching off the lights on his way, Eddie had retreated beneath the blankets again, moved by threatening shivers. But he could breathe easy now—metaphorically and literally—and a great sense of relief flooded his body, his bones and muscles and aches less pressing. And with the power back, he wondered if they might get better service, or—

"Do you think there are workers nearby or something?" Flash settled down beside Eddie with a suppressed shiver, quick to nestle into his side with a tired familiarity. "Like, if it was a local outage or something."

Eddie stared up into the darkness, listening to the low noises of compressing air as he considered.

"Perhaps." He shifted, so he could get a blurry look at Flash's shadow-obscured face. "Perhaps not."

Flash laughed under his breath. "Okay, Mr. Yes-No-Maybe." He sighed, moving slightly, and his hair tickled Eddie's cheek. "Does it feel warmer to you?"

Quietly, Eddie asked, "Do you always talk this much in the middle of the night?"

"Mmm..." Flash's hand brushed Eddie's shoulder. "No, I don't make a habit of talking to myself out loud."

Neither spoke for a moment, as Eddie considered that statement. He turned onto his side, stuffed bear tucked under his arm, and though it was hard to tell he could have sworn his nose brushed against Flash's—though maybe that was just his forehead, or his cheek.

Flash turned his head down, but nestled closer.

Hesitantly, Eddie pressed a very light kiss to his hair.

Flash didn't say anything more, but he wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist with a sigh.

***

"How's your nosebleed?" Flash tilted his head at Eddie, as the other man emerged from the bathroom in a waft of steam.

Eddie briefly touched his nose—"It's fine, it was only a small one." He ran a hand back through his slightly damp hair as he approached, and sat on the couch beside Flash. "Any luck?"

Flash scooted a little closer to Eddie under the pretense of showing him his phone. A whole bar of service. "I got a text out to the group coordinator." He pulled up his texts to show as proof. "Haven't heard back yet but I haven't lost any bars either."

As he said that, the single bar turned into roaming. Flash cursed.

Eddie's arm settled around his shoulders, and his breath hitched a little at the warm weight.

"Internet?"

Flash shook his head. "I don't have a very good data plan, unfortunately."

"Hm."

Eddie did not remove his arm from Flash, or move really at all.

They sat like that in silence a little, while Flash messed with his phone. As if he might accidentally click something to restore his service. He twiddled aimlessly... gradually let his head rest against Eddie's shoulder... Finally—

"Hey, Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"Last night... I, uh..."

Eddie shifted, but kept his arm around Flash.

"Um... I think you kissed the wrong place."

Eddie pulled away slightly, but only to give Flash a mildly incredulous look.

Flash bit back a grin. He knew he must have been red already, but more importantly, a touch of pink colored Eddie's cheeks as well.

"You—" Eddie cleared his throat. "What are you trying to say?"

Flash rolled his eyes. "What do you think?" He let his head tilt so he could get a better look at Eddie, and maybe for other reasons as well... involving angles, and a certain desire, and flirtatiousness...

"Oh."

Sure, Flash had never really kissed a guy before, except in a game or two of college spin-the-bottle, maybe some truth or dare... seven minutes in Heaven... okay, maybe Flash had kissed a small handful of guys quite a few times, actually.

"Eddie." Flash straightened up, and the way he repositioned himself let Eddie's arm fall around his waist. Let him put his hand on the back of Eddie's neck. "You maybe wanna try again and kiss me where it counts?"

He felt about a million degrees, his ears all burning, his heart pounding.

But Eddie didn't recoil or say no. He just looked at Flash, scrutinizing him...

He leaned in and kissed Flash.

***

Eddie stared down at the counter beside the stove.

Landline telephone. Black, corded. Blinking from the power outage but completely functional.

"Hey, Flash?"

"Yeah?" Flash looked over his shoulder at Eddie, from the loveseat.

Eddie grabbed the receiver and held it up.

Flash stared at him.

Then closed his eyes with a pained sigh, letting his head fall against the back of the couch with a barely audible, "Are you shitting me right now?"

"No."

Flash laughed.

Eddie smiled to himself. Flash had a very pleasant, disarming laugh. Like for a moment he just forgot everything, when it happened. All his worries and cares, replaced by dimples and smiles. Eddie ducked his head, suddenly too warm, and mumbled, "I'm going to call the coordinator."

"Okay." Flash smiled at him from the couch.

One phone call later, Eddie had gotten into contact with their group coordinator and ensured everyone was one the same page...

"I don't have an exact idea of our location, but I feel confident that we're fairly close."

A soft, familiar sound tapped from outside.

Eddie frowned, glancing at Flash, and then out the window, as the coordinator spoke to him on the other end of the line.

"Is it raining?" Flash stretched up to get a look at one of the windows.

Eddie put his finger to his lips, still listening to the group coordinator, but he moved over to the window and peered outside at the heavy clouds and the light drops falling from the sky. The snow already looked more compact, as if it had melted somewhat and then frozen overnight... now, little dark spots pocked its surface.

Distantly, some kind of motor rumbled.

"You got all that?"

"Yes." Eddie stepped back from the window. "I think we'll be able to get out of here soon."

"Alright, we'll keep an eye out."

Eddie hung up, and looked at Flash.

Flash folded his arms on the back of the love seat and rested his chin on them with a smile. "Are we free?"

"I hear a truck."

Flash nodded toward the door. "Let's hope it's a snow plow."

***

Mary picked up her cellphone, setting her fork down when she saw who was calling. "Hello?"

"Ms. Brock, Eddie should be rejoining the group before we head back home. Thought I'd let you know in case you haven't heard from him yet."

She grinned, as Anne leaned in closer to eavesdrop. "Great, thanks so much for letting me know."

A few brief pleasantries, and the call ended.

Anne smiled at Mary from her spot across the small table. "Everything's okay?"

"Everything is fine." Mary reached for Anne's hand. "Now... let's get back to our date, shall we?"

Anne raised her eyebrows. "Sounds good to me."

Mary  brought Anne's hand to her lips. "Wonderful."


	9. I'm great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything works out in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna go ahead and call this done now.
> 
> Night 6/day 7.

Flash couldn't sleep.

He listened to Eddie's shallow breathing, the hum of his machine, the refrigerator, the drum of heavy rain on the roof. Eddie's was asleep, his arms wrapped around Flash, their bodies flush together. Warm, snug, covered in blankets. Actually a little too warm, but not entirely unpleasant. Being so bundled up and secure had him relaxed and calm, despite his insomnia.

He almost wished they never had to leave.

Obviously, that would be a problem—they'd run out of food, and their friends would worry, and Flash's students needed him. At least, he liked to think so.

But he didn't want to go back to his empty apartment, sleeping on the couch just because it was closer and easier and less lonely.

But maybe... well, he'd told Eddie he wanted to be his friend, for real this time, not just a vaguely familiar guy in the same therapy group. Anyway, their sessions were ending within the next month, so they wouldn't see each other there many more times... so he'd just... have to annoy Eddie into hanging out with him, just the two of them. Maybe see a movie, or go get lunch together...

...Dates.

Flash wrinkled his nose. Just the thought alone embarrassed him.

Normally he jumped headfirst into things, trying to hook up with exes (while married, no less!) or kissing someone once and already thinking they were an item—he was doing that right now! He always did that. What if Eddie didn't want to be his... _friend_? Or see him at all? Maybe it had just been a big misunderstanding—

He covered his face with his hands, grumbling to himself.

Stop overthinking things.

Let everything go naturally.

He took a few carefully measured breaths.

Calm.

Warm.

Safe.

Flash reached for Eddie's hand, curled loosely near his stomach, and twined their fingers together. Eddie didn't jolt awake or withdraw or anything, just sighed slightly in his sleep, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Flash.

***

_To the owners of this cabin,_

_We must apologize for not only breaking into your alpine home, but also for stealing several days' worth of food and firewood, and for using your blankets. As I'm sure you can understand, neither of us wanted to starve or freeze, by sleeping in our car in the dead of winter whilst stranded in this unfamiliar area._

_Thank you for unknowingly saving our lives._

_Best regards,_

_Two very gratefully alive men._

"They don't need to know our names, really..." Eddie capped his pen, sitting at the coffee table—which they had moved back into place that morning. Well, really, Eddie had moved it. He studied his note a moment more, then carried it over to the fridge, fixing it in place with a magnet shaped like a moose.

Flash was in the bathroom, currently, and Eddie in the midst of packing his things.

Funny how they packed in such opposite ways—and how Eddie usually ended up carrying it all. He rolled his eyes, and grabbed Flash's hefty suitcase from beside the door. It didn't even fit on Flash's lap, and Flash didn't strike Eddie as the type of person who enjoyed letting other people do things for him but... Old habits died hard, and luggage cost money. Eddie made his trips to the car, back and forth, over the melting snow.

Not so breezy today. Certainly above freezing. If it hadn't been so stormy the other day, snow might have plopped from the branches, but as it was they were all bare already.

He paused, with the trunk open, to look out at the partially melted, partially plowed, heavily salted road...

The power outage must have been local, low priority but still important enough to send folks out to fix. Maybe there was a mountain fire station nearby, or some kind of resort or emergency facility. Radios, something. Could have been anything. Eddie was just glad to be able to leave, finally. To not have to worry so much about what might happen, if they would run out of food, or firewood.

He slammed the trunk shut, as Flash appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, where am I supposed to put my dirty clothes, huh?" Flash waved his pajama shirt at Eddie. "You stole my suitcase."

Oh. Whoops. Eddie made a face. "Sorry."

Flash grinned at him.

"Do you... need help?"

Flash raised his eyebrows at Eddie. "Not really." He shoved his dirty laundry into the bag strapped underneath his seat. "I mean—" As he let his wheelchair drop, controlled, down each step, he said, "I think I can mostly manage." He spared a glance at Eddie, eyes twinkling. "Unless you're looking for an excuse to feel me up?"

Eddie shook his head, maybe too quick to deny, the way Flash's face fell. "I'm not that kind of man, I swear."

Flash eyed him, somewhat stern, suddenly. "Well maybe _I_ am." He paused, frowning down at the snow in front of him. "And maybe I'm a little stubborn."

"You want...?"

"Is there... a way you could make a path for me?" He interrupted before Eddie could respond. "Not that I can't move like this, it's just easier, you know, if it's clear, and I don't have to try so hard—"

Eddie nodded. "There's a shovel."

There was, on the porch, a big red snow shovel. Useless before but helpful now—Eddie needed to clear the space behind the car, to the road, anyway... He scraped away the snow in front, first, clearing a pathway for Flash to roll over to the passenger side door. Took a break to catch his breath. Kept at it that way for a few minutes, with Flash watching him from inside the car.

Eddie paused, again taking a short break, and caught Flash's eye through the window.

Flash smiled at him, and Eddie ducked his head to hide his own smile.

When he glanced back up, Flash seemed to be distracted by something else, frowning slightly down at his lap.

Eddie made sure everything was all set—locked the door, hid the spare key again, left the shovel where he'd found it.

Time to go.

The second he got into the car, Flash blurted, "I'm sorry I made you kiss me!"

Eddie blinked at him.

"...What?"

"You—" Flash rubbed his face. "I'm sorry. I'm always so pushy and I didn't even ask if you wanted to, I just assumed you would kiss me, and I mean, you _did_ , but I always come on so strong—" He took a breath. "I'm sorry."

Eddie took him by the shoulder. "Flash." He shifted so he could get a better look at Flash's face—so Flash would look at him. "I wanted to kiss you."

Flash stared at him, as if trying to detect potential lies—a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"What—" Eddie sat back with a breathless laugh. "Of _course_ I'm sure."  He shook his head in disbelief as he reached to turn the ignition, pulling out the emergency break, so on and so forth. "I may not have a lot of romantic experience, but I know when I want to kiss someone." He twisted around, slowly backing out of the driveway. "Trust me when I say I wanted to kiss you."

Flash let out a soft breath. "Oh."

"Yes." Onto the road, crusted with salt and slush and melting ice.

"Okay."

Eddie smiled.

***

Flash had not exactly expected a welcoming crew, maybe just the group leader watching for them from the parking lot—but there were two strangers as well, and as Eddie pulled into an empty spot, one of them immediately strode toward the car—she was tall, stern-faced, gorgeous, and her hair went to her butt. Flash recognized her, suddenly, from one of Eddie's photos.

He couldn't remember her name but this was Eddie's sister.

And the second Eddie got out of the car, she pulled him into a painful-looking hug.

"Mary—" Eddie hugged her back, using his foot to close the driver's door behind him—anything else he said cut off.

Flash sighed, leaning back into his seat.

Their group leader came over as well, opening the door to the backseat. He popped his head in with a, "Hi there, Flash—" He hesitated, hands up slightly, as Flash turned to look at him over the back of the seat. "Do I have permission to touch your wheelchair?"

"Yeah, go for it." Flash unbuckled himself, as the other man took his wheelchair out of the backseat for him—he really should have asked the dealership if they had a different model to rent, but what was done was done.

Eddie seemed engrossed in a conversation with his sister and ex-wife, so Flash didn't bother him—he popped the trunk before hopping out into his wheelchair and asked their coordinator, "Hey, you wanna help me take out stuff to our room?"

The coordinator was quick to assist, struggling with Flash's suitcase. Flash grinned to himself, as he took Eddie's backpack and a smaller bag. Maybe he overstuffed his suitcases on purpose. Maybe it amused him to watch people try to help and then regret it. Maybe he still needed to start packing smarter so he could carry his own things. But this was fine.

It took them a few trips, but they got all of Flash's and Eddie's belongings into one of the first floor rooms. A basic kind of room, with two queens, and enough space to maneuver, and very hard carpeting.

Flash glanced at the open door to their room, just able to see Eddie and his family outside. He shrugged, and left it, and pulled out his phone, just to give himself something to do. Silly apps with sparkling graphics and incessant twinkling noises.

 A soft knock at the doorframe got his attention, and he glanced up.

It was Eddie's sister... Mary! That was her name.

"Hi, Flash right?" She waited for Flash's mumbled yeah before saying, "Eddie just told me how much you helped him out this week, and I wanted to thank you for looking out for him."

A help? Looking out? Flash blushed, slightly. "Oh, I don't think I really did much—"

"Nonsense!" She grinned at him, crossing her arms as she leaned on the doorway. "You tended the fireplace, didn't you? And you gave him that band-aid, and most importantly, you kept him company." Her expression softened. "God knows the boy needs more friends."

"O—oh." Flash scratched the back of his head. "I mean, I guess... You're welcome?"

She laughed. "Good." She looked at him a moment, still grinning... "Also, if you ever hurt him, I _will_ kill you."

With that, she turned and left, before Flash could even think of an appropriate response.

A moment passed, and Eddie came into the room. He caught Flash's expression, and raised his eyebrows as he shut the door behind him. "Are you alright?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, I'm great." Flash smiled at him. "Um... you wanna go see if they've still got continental breakfast out?"

"Sure." Eddie returned his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later that night:
> 
> Flash: So, uh,you wanna share a bed?  
> Eddie: ...Yes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [One Week? More like Three Days: Page Turner Superior Alternate Retelling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18299600) by [softgrungeprophet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet)




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